


Ties of Red

by zzinvolterra



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: (And Really Wanted a Damn Soulmate AU), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Study, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Reflection, Short One Shot, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29580423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzinvolterra/pseuds/zzinvolterra
Summary: It takes nearly three thousand years for a name to appear on Aro's wrist.
Relationships: Aro/Carlisle Cullen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Ties of Red

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely self-indulgent.

The first time Aro feels a tugging, he is approaching three thousand years of existence and is in the middle of ripping someone’s head off.

It’s less momentous than the poems and songs have built up, but it is undoubtedly the same clenching that so many others have felt. (Three thousand years of reading mated pairs, and no, he doesn’t hope; but sometimes, he lets himself yearn. He has learned there is a difference.)

Only after the head detaches and the body is dutifully burning away does he register the tight loop of red around his left wrist. ‘ _Carlisle Cullen’_ it says in cramped slanted handwriting, and he indulges himself for a moment, traces the name with a whisper of a smile, then allows his sleeve to fall back down.

* * *

Aro lied. He is supposed to wait, to put trust in the Universe that they will be united, him and this _Carlisle_. But waiting and trusting is not in his nature.

(The worries are though. He checks more often now, his band of red, to make sure it has not faded to dust, greyed into the dull weight of chains.)

He said he was going to Europe, and really, he did. He just made a quick detour, walked through a few towns, a few unnecessary brushes against the startlingly warm backs of hands.

He finds nothing and goes back to waiting.

* * *

Later, it starts burning, a searing memory and a jolt of long-forgotten pain. (It has been twenty-three years. His soulmate is twenty-three. Aro alternates between counting the seconds and losing himself in the endless cycle later. He always wonders when it will be _now_.)

It seems his soulmate has already found immortality without him. He cannot tell if he is delighted or disappointed.

* * *

Aro does his best to not think about _him_. (He has taken to referring to him this way, as though it will stop him from ever building up who _he_ will be, what _he_ will be like.)

He can’t stop himself from yearning.

(He does not want to be disappointed.)

* * *

The first time Aro meets (his) this frustratingly elusive _Carlisle_ , he is not ripping someone’s head off and has still not reached three thousand. (Gods, when did he take to thinking of _him_ as something as painful as his?)

He is instead pacing in front of the marble dais. The steps that should have been echoing in the bare chamber are instead entirely silent. (He could make sound, could stomp if he wanted to, but he’s afraid he’ll break something. So, he settles for being a ghost.)

And then, with a tread slightly louder than his own, _he_ enters.

The world doesn’t stop when their eyes meet. (The Universe is far too busy, too unconcerned, to halt for something as routine and momentous as this.)

But Aro fancies that the world shifts anyway. A surprisingly open face boldly meets his astonished gaze while his left wrist grows warm. He has never cared less about the circlet of red than in this moment, faced with this startlingly clear gold.

“ _Ciao, signore. Sono Carlisle Cullen_ ,” His Italian is hardly smooth, unfamiliar around the blunt edges of some English accent. Aro is delighted.

He extends a hand, hastily clad in a glove moments before, and grasps _Carlisle’s_. A flourishing bracelet of red adorns the wrist of the hand he shakes, and he thinks he can see out the lines that make up an ancient name. His name.

He grins brilliantly, a blinding gleam that becomes increasingly genuine as _his soulmate_ hesitantly smiles back.

Aro lets himself hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Huggy6ear_Angel wrote an incredible (angsty) alternate ending that I highly recommend checking out down below!!  
> (Thank you Penn ❤)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Tied by hope, Ruined by hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967420) by [Huggy6ear_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggy6ear_Angel/pseuds/Huggy6ear_Angel)




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